


we get what we deserve

by ashinan



Series: Uliro Week [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 09:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan
Summary: The mission fails in more ways than one.





	we get what we deserve

**Author's Note:**

> Day four and still going strong. Goodness, this is bizarre for me but I'm having so much fun? You've all been amazing, dahlings, with the comments and kudos and the stunning amount of work for this week. This fic takes a bit of departure from the Soft that tends to be my usual for this pairing, as we delve into Danger. If you're interested in music for this fic, check out [Way Down We Go](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzXuQbcp8Yc) by Kaleo which helped spawn the idea for this ficlet! Here we go!

The mission was a failure.

This was an unusual run for Ulaz, as most missions with the Blade tended to be layered in contingency plans for this exact reason. Failure was unacceptable. The Paladins of Voltron did not have such high standards; their plans hinged on a bizarre ability to ‘adapt on the fly’ as Shiro put it. No one could explain this notion and yet it persisted. The plan, while brilliant in its conception, had been littered with enough uncertainty that Ulaz had been hesitant to follow through. Only Shiro’s backing had convinced him otherwise.

They were intent on storming a prisoner ship with information pertaining to the arenas. While thinly veiled as an attempt to gather more information on the Green Paladin’s missing family, the ship harboured numerous files on incoming aliens and the planets they were ripped from. Voltron could liberate these planets, bring them within the Alliance’s fold, and move from there. Hit and run missions. The Blade specialized in such techniques, so it was Ulaz running point. Shiro immediately volunteered, his knowledge of the prison ships invaluable. That comment still remained sharp in the back of Ulaz’s thoughts, even as they ran. Even as the mission crumbled around them.

Now, with the alarms wailing above them and the information they’d gathered safely tucked away in a drive under Ulaz’s nail, it was a mad dash toward safety. There were no fail safes, no contingencies. Ulaz snagged Shiro’s wrist and dragged him into a small alcove off the main hallway of the prison ship they’d boarded, tucking them out of sight as a gaggle of sentries rushed by. Shiro paused, listening, his one hand on Ulaz’s stomach and his Galra arm cocked as though ready for a punch. The sentries didn’t look away from their direct route. A failure in their coding, one that both Ulaz and Shiro had exploited in the past.

“What is the plan?” Ulaz asked, his mask painting Shiro in pale purples and blues. Shiro poked his head out, leaning heavily against Ulaz, and then tucked back into the alcove. His helmet had been lost when they’d first been discovered. The danger ahead  was not lost on Ulaz: they could not escape into space as a last resort.

“We’re about three clicks from the main hangar bay. They have emergency pods on board. We snag one and jettison out of here.” Shiro tapped two fingers against Ulaz’s stomach, a count, before he stilled. More sentries thundered down the hallway.

Ulaz eyed the sentries trajectory. Back the way Ulaz and Shiro had come; it wouldn’t be long before the enemy branched out in different directions. They had to move.

Another tap and then Shiro darted free from cover, Ulaz a step behind him. They ducked and wove their way through the hallway, Shiro dragging Ulaz aside when he reached the end of his count, Ulaz hiding Shiro from sight with his dark armour. They worked their way slowly but surely toward the hangar bay, listening, waiting, praying. The buzz of the information drive beneath Ulaz’s nail burned. The mission could still be salvaged.

As they ducked into another alcove, Shiro thumped his head against the piping, smiling for a moment up at Ulaz. Ulaz cocked his head, listening for danger and yet intent on Shiro’s expression. He seemed to be enjoying himself despite the plethora of issues they’d encountered thus far. Ulaz drew the pads of his fingers over Shiro’s smiling mouth, palm against the warmth of Shiro’s cheek. Shiro twisted his head to press a kiss to Ulaz’s hand, eyes bright. He kept count with his fingers,  _onetwothree_. They waited, still. Sentries rushed by. Shiro darted out of cover and Ulaz followed.

The hangar was close and Shiro pushed forward. Ulaz followed, alarmed momentarily that Shiro was forgoing their routine thus far to rush for their end goal. His fears were made reality as a group of sentries marched to meet them, their purple gaze going red as they spotted and scanned Shiro.

Cold, mechanical, the sentries rattled off: “Fugitive 117-9875.”

It was quick, a shiver of unease crawling over Shiro’s shoulders before he lit his arm and jumped into the fray. Ulaz followed, tearing through the platoon with sword and claw. By the time the last sentry had fallen, Ulaz had lost the count. The next round of sentries would be close; Shiro grabbed Ulaz’s hand and ran.

The alarms followed them, each step punctuated with another accusing whistle. Ulaz kept stride with Shiro, desperately running through contingency plans. The rest of the Paladins were awaiting confirmation to swoop in and cause distraction; the jamming signal surrounding the ship had negated that particular fail safe. The loss of Shiro’s helmet further cemented how absolutely alone they were. Slapping a hand against one of the side doors, Shiro jerked Ulaz through. The room was relatively large, the hangar control room and not the bay. Unfortunately, it was full of sentries.

The door shushed closed behind them.

Ulaz was first to move, darting forward with blade drawn. The brilliant flash of his sword transforming momentarily blinded the sentries and Ulaz ripped through them, pivoting quick on his left foot to catch an enemy from behind. The sentries swarmed,falling upon the two of them in a wave of metal and brilliant red and purple light. Ulaz ducked under the swipe of one sentry and used it as a shield, catching the plasma rays and shoving the mess back at its companions. Each sentry that fell was replaced by more, their metal limbs shrieking, the alarms wailing. Everything was bathed in harsh red light. Darting back to the centre, Ulaz frantically sought out Shiro.

He was holding his own, cutting down any sentry that dared come too close. They were becoming wise to his movements, circling instead of blindly attack. The sentries converged all at once, falling to his arm but not fast enough. Each slash was met with another sentry jumping into place, driving him further and further from Ulaz.  Ulaz darted forward to flank but was beset by reinforcements from the left. They nearly bowled him over, removing Shiro from his sight, and Ulaz snarled. He extended his claws, swirled his blade, and went to work.

By the time the last sentry fell, the alarms had dulled to an unpleasant hum in Ulaz’s ears. His skin prickled with lingering violence, his blade blackened by electric currents shorn off and disconnected. Shiro staggered back toward the center, feet slipping over the parts strew about, and Ulaz caught him. Huffing out a laugh, Shiro leaned against him, shaking, and Ulaz tipped his chin up in concern. There were char marks along Shiro’s cheeks; the suit had protected him from the worst of the damage, though was now smeared by gray soot and bullets turned aside. Running his fingers down Shiro’s throat and over the vulnerable curve of his abdomen, Ulaz found no other damage. Shiro dropped his forehead against Ulaz’s chest, breathing out in relief.

The alarms continued to wail.

“The hangars are near,” Ulaz said softly, brushing his fingers through Shiro’s white fringe. Shiro bumped up into the touch, seeking comfort. Ulaz deactivated his mask before dropping his nose against the crown of Shiro’s head, breathing him in. Ozone and sweat. They had to leave. Their window of opportunity was rapidly closing.

There was a lift down to the hangar bay and Shiro activated it with his hand before ushering Ulaz inside. He stepped easily into Ulaz’s space, leaning against his side and breathing quietly, eyes flashing as they descended. Ulaz ran his claws down Shiro’s spine, calming himself through the surety of touch. Shiro, unharmed. The mission, nearly complete.

Alarms wailed above. The hangar floor approached.

When the doors opened, Ulaz paused. Beneath the alarms, he could make out…something. Footsteps? The wail had dulled his senses. Regardless, the pods were near. Shiro stepped out first.

The pods were all quiet, powered down prior to a jump. As they walked, Shiro poked his head into a few of the doors, unsatisfied with what he found inside. Each escape pod was docked in order of flight, and as they viewed the last pod, Ulaz noted it was already docked to be sent into the flight tube. He approached the panel off to the side, typing in the command for it to begin initiation. The alarms wailed. Ulaz’s ears strained to hear beneath it, unease curling in his stomach. Shiro wandered into the pod nearby, poking around inside.

The doors shushed open, the lights turning on. Ulaz set the timer for thirty seconds and gestured for Shiro to follow, pleased that the mission was nearly over. A prickling at the base of his skull made him fidget, glancing back toward the opposite doors. He ascended the ramp, Shiro hopping out of the other pod to follow.

Beneath the alarms, a door opened.

Beneath the alarms, footsteps thundered into formation.

“Oh,” Shiro said as he staggered, falling to his knees on the ramp.

Ulaz whirled. Shiro’s druidic arm whined down, shoulder smoldering. A neat hole had been blasted through the suit and armour. Shiro clapped his free hand to his mouth as he shook.

The door closed. With Shiro on the wrong side.

Ulaz  _panicked._

The glass reverberated as he beat on it, claws screeching across metal. Beyond Shiro’s shaking form, sentries lit up the entry way to the hangar. A commander stood at the center of them, gun cocked. Her smile was slow, delighted, as she viewed Shiro downed on the hangar ramp. Ulaz slammed his fists against the glass. It did not give.

“Shiro!”

Shiro glanced up, panting from the pain. Ulaz could not look away. His fingers slid against the door, desperation clawing at his chest like a living thing. Shiro staggered to his feet. The commander said something. Shiro replied, though he did not remove his gaze from Ulaz. His shoulder was useless, hanging limp by his side. The pallor of his complexion stated he would soon go into shock. He was without weapons, without escape. 

With an almost lazy glee, the commander gestured. The sentries rushed forward.

Frantic, Ulaz wrenched the panel off the wall, tangling his fingers in the wires as he bounced his attention from Shiro and the rushing sentries to the  _only hope_  of saving him. The sentries glowed. Shiro closed his eyes. Smiled that gentle smile that he always turned on Ulaz. Abandoning the wiring, Ulaz fought to break through the door, to tear the glass from the frame. It did not budge. It did not yield. Ulaz was trapped and Shiro opened his eyes.

“No,” Ulaz whispered, gaze wide as his fingers slid useless over the glass. The lights shifted within the pod, the rumble of engines warming vibrating through his feet. Shiro pressed his palm to the window; he said something, quiet and low, Ulaz’s name clear on his lips. He turned away.

_“No!”_

The pod descended.

And Shiro was lost to the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come follow me on [tumblr](https://ashinan.tumblr.com) where I will be posting the Uliro fics first before putting them on AO3. ALSO ALSO please do follow [Uliro Week](https://uliroweek.tumblr.com/) for all your Uliro needs


End file.
